Genmaicha (Brown Rice Tea)
by BlondeSuperman
Summary: The thought of something being empty was interesting. Because, really, something is always there, right? Science said that there were always particles dancing around in a frenzied rave. The glass that's half empty is actually all full. An empty threat is still filled with emotion and promise. Klance if ya squint, can be romantic or platonic.


**Guess who's back, back again?**

 **Scarlet's back, call a friend**

 **God, so much has happened in the last three years, y'all. So. Fucking. Much. I'm in university now! And this is me ignoring my agriculture and chemistry midterms. Tomorrow. Kill me.**

 **I do not own the characters but you bet your ass I own the story.**

Genmaicha(Brown Rice Tea)

And time went on. It kept moving, pushing, rushing, whipping forward too fast but too slow. The wind in his head screamed and it cried and it tried to claw its way into each pore, but despite the anger and furry, it was empty.

The thought of something being empty was interesting. Because, really, something is always there, right? Science said that there were always particles dancing around in a frenzied rave. The glass that's half empty is actually all full. An empty threat is still filled with emotion and promise. But right now, Keith felt pretty fucking empty.

Yeah, yeah, there was flesh and sinew inside of him. He had organs and cells and atoms that were all working together to keep him moving, pushing, whipping forward too fast but too slow. The hollowness he felt was not physical. Even if he did have a gaping hole in his chest, he was sure Coran could fix him up.

No, this hollowness wasn't physical. It was metaphorical and imaginary but it was all-consuming. It was worse this time, too.

Feeling empty was never something new. He felt empty when his dad left him at the orphanage at the ripe old age of fourteen. At the time, he didn't know why, but the Red Paladin was rightfully infamous for instinct.

His life with his dad had never been perfect, but it had been something. And by that age, that was all he'd known. Alien hunting until late and skipping class to follow clues. Early mornings crying for a woman Keith had never known but crying none-the-less. That had been his life, and watching his dad leave? It took everything away and out of him. For years, he was sure his dad had taken Keith's core.

He felt empty like the worker's words. "You'll get adopted, honey." They'd say. But there was never emotion there. The emptiness was like the white walls, the endless cooridoors, his papers.

Why'd he get sent to the Garrison? Allura would say fate. Keith would say that the staff wanted his room to be empty.

It had started to leave, the emptiness. It was Shiro's fault. He made Keith feel loved and maybe, just maybe, he reminded him of his dad. The reassuring words, the strong and steady faith that Keith could do anything he wanted, that he had a place and a purpose.

And it was ripped away with the announcement that the Kerberos mission failed. It was shredded in the ever merciless wind and devoured.

And being abandoned hurt so much more the second time around.

Maybe it was because this time, they didn't want to leave. Shiro didn't ask for any of it, did ask to die and sure as hell didn't ask to be kidnapped by aliens.

This time, the emptiness was like the dessert he was kicked out into. It was vast and dry and could kill in a matter of hours. It was lonely, too. But again, time kept moving and as it pushed, rushed, whipped, going too fast and too slow, Keith thought he'd really lose to it. The depression started out little but in the dessert with no one to talk to, the emptiness became his Only and it told him to do things. Like he dessert, it whispered to him at night. Unlike the dessert, however, it told him so many terrible, terrible things.

If he started to ignore self-care, didn't eat for a few days and didn't sleep for a few nights, no one knew but the ever growing void that took up inhabitance in the base of his gut, right under his stomach and stretching up and around his organs to his diaphragm. If his un-kept nails dug too deep into his arms and thighs when the emptiness started to riot, only the moon knew this secret.

But Shiro came back! He came back, albite with post-traumatic stress disorder, but he was back. And Keith let himself fall back into the comfort of having him there with him. They fought a war together, side by side, but also with others.

And the emptiness snuck away. It was filled with Hunk, who was wholesome and rich and warm and overflowing with life. It was filled with Pidge and their jargon and their loyalty, their passion and desire to break off some of the knowledge that grew in their head and give it away to whoever would be patient enough to listen. It was filled with Allura and her authority and power, with Coran and his kindness and wisdom.

And it was filled with Lance. Filled in the way the open ocean is, seemingly empty but when you do a double take, you realize that it's really the most alive and crowded place.

But as time moves, pushes, rushes, whips forward too fast and too slow, someone takes an axe to the barrel and suddenly you're empty again. All of the wind in his lungs had screamed and clawed its way out, emptying him of energy and ability.

Now, here he was, in the empty cockpit of the Black Lion, asking the Lion empty questions and receiving nothing but empty silence.

What was it like this time? It like coals that had been turned to ash, who had no energy left to give. It was like a lobotomy, it left Keith vegetative and lost. It was lawless and stupid and cruel.

It was like a bleached reef where fish dare not swim anymore.

"Keith?" Fish? Here? But the corals had died and leaked their toxins, creating an empty stare in any who swam through. It wasn't safe.

"Hey," the fish kept swimming and Keith wanted to cry out and warn him but all he could see was the majesty of the open ocean. The touch on his arm only had him looking up and then he was drowning in the ocean, engulfed in the business of sharks hunting, of whales migrating, of each little algae as it struggled to survive another day. "I brought you tea." The fish said, leaning to the side and placing a cup on the Black Lion's dashboard.

And then Keith wasn't in the open ocean anymore. He was in Lance's arms, filling up as his tears emptied.

"Hush now," he soothed, rubbing circles on Keith's back and god, Keith was sure he'd become too full and burst. "We'll find him, I promise. Keith, I promise you that we won't stop looking."

The little fish made itself at home in the bleached reef, seemingly immune to its toxins. In the sand beds, Keith could feel the bacteria multiplying and growing and from the ocean's tides he could feel small creatures washing in and clinging to the coral bone.

Lance was giggling quietly into Keith's hair and he pulled him closer to his chest. "That's cute," he brushed Keith's waist with his hand, warm considering he was the guardian of ice.

"What is?"

"You said I was a fish and was gunna live in the bleached reef. It was really poetic, Mr. Mullet. You should write or something. Sell it at one of the space malls as Earth literature."

"Oh god, I said it out loud." Keith shoved his hands over his blushing face, feeling the embarrassment starting to eat him away.

"No, no, no," Lance grabbed his hands and pulled them away. Yes, Keith did notice how he intertwined their fingers together, thank you. "I think it's awesome, Keith."

"What tea is that?"

"I don't know. I remember a," now it was Lance's turn to blush, "I remember being told that it was yours and Shiro's favourite one? Uhm, Shiro and Hunk made something that tasted just like it a long time ago."

Keith's chest constricted and the breath inside his lungs paused. He reached out for the mug and took a hesitant sip, making sure to hold onto Lance tightly as he did.

It was perfect.

"It's perfect."

You're perfect. Keith wanted to add, because with each beat of Lance's heart against his chest and with each sip of tea, his chest was starting to feel full again.


End file.
